


Thirteen Sad Farewells

by Dexilt



Category: Video Blogging RPF, mcyt
Genre: AU, Angst, Anxiety, Bars, Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound in Love (Video Blogging RPF), Conflict, DNF, Drinking, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, LGBTQ Character, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Minecraft, One Night Stand, Strangers to Lovers, Twitch - Freeform, YouTube, alternative universe, clubs, dreamnotfound, eventual smut?? idk, gamer - Freeform, mention of real name, mlm, somewhat slowburn?, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 02:08:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,186
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30048324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dexilt/pseuds/Dexilt
Summary: If you want to be seen, you have to do everything you can to do that. You have to give up a piece of yourself to fit in and to even get the chance to exist as well. Or, that's at least how he thought the world worked.One day, he meets someone who sees him for him and cares for him emotionally instead of only physically. It turns his life around, and Dream makes it his new personal goal to make sure George understands he is loved for so much more than just his body.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 14





	Thirteen Sad Farewells

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there. 
> 
> I would like to start out that this is a vent fanfic. I have lately started to think about why I do the things I do and with the help of a friend, I think I have finally started to figure things out. But old habits are so hard to break and I was never one to deal with emotions. So the other night I came up with this; write about it in a fanfic. It makes me able to control it, and I can create something happy and maybe that can be a start. Basically what I am trying to say is this is a very (very) personal fic. 
> 
> Even so, I hope it can be somewhat enjoyable, or even readable. Please stay safe out there. 
> 
> Happy reading!

There were flashes going over his eyes, his mind getting clouded by the thoughts and the memories which had managed to slip through the alcohol. There were lights and there were movements, although hazy. Nothing looked like it should and he was not sure where he even was at those points. Maybe he was in the car watching the lights pass by, maybe he was not even in the car at all and he was walking. Maybe someone was holding his hand. 

  
At some point he had gotten home though. The familiar sheets and the rooms he knew way too well filled his vision as well as a black figure. The smell in his house was soft, but now he couldn’t feel it at all. Instead he felt the figure’s cologne. It was all around him and filling him up, making him unable to think of anything beside the nice smell. He wanted to drown in it, disappear. 

Hands were everywhere, on his chest, on his back, arms, legs, cheeks. They were gently stroking his cheeks which felt odd, that’s not how it’s supposed to go. Maybe this guy was just a softie, maybe he was not a big porno and then go home. Maybe he would be one of those who took their time to listen, to make it good for both sides. He couldn’t remember fully, his head hurt too much anyways. Good thing he always kept pills by his bed. 

He stirred awake slowly, moving his hand over the sheets to try and find a good place to grip to later throw the quilt off from his body and free himself. He struggled, but after a few seconds the weight was off and he could actually sit up. His room was dark, small streams of light coming in from behind the blinds of his window. Now he just had to find his bedside table. 

He opened one eye and cringed, the pain overtaking his head quite quickly. It would have been nice to be able to just stay asleep and ignore the terrible pain in his head. But the faster he got up, the faster he could watch him walk out. If he hasn’t already. Hopefully, the guy was gone. 

Reaching his hand out, he searched for the water bottle he kept by his bed. It did not take him long to find it since he basically had the movement memorized by now. Too many times had he done this, too many times had he been this desperate. But not for the things people thought. 

It was not the act, it was the touches. It was the way he felt important even for just a minute. The way someone had his eyes on him for just a second. It was how someone focused on him or at least was  _ there _ with him during the night. Plus points if they stayed the night. That is what really mattered. That is why he did these things, that is why he never wanted to share information about these things with his friends. They didn’t need to know. 

Grabbing the bottle was hard, but in the end after some fiddling he managed to wrap his fingers around it and brought it to his lips. It was empty. 

“I can get you some more if you want to? I’m sure your head must be quite a mess right now.” The voice was soft, like honey. It was full of care and deep, but not too deep. It was almost as if he had lowered his voice as well since he spoke quietly. The dude must be tired, they had barely even slept during the night. Or at least that’s what he guessed since his head hurt this bad. 

He put down the bottle and turned around to look at the person he had brought home. His eyes were the only thing he could remember. Those green emerald orbs which seemed to be full of childish joy and happiness were bright, playful. It reminded him of the eyes of a dog who just got released in a park and chased a tennis ball. 

His hair seemed to be quite the mess, strands sticking out everywhere from his head. They had almost a sand like color to them, a bit darker here and there. It was adorable in a way, annoyingly adorable. He did not look like the typical guy to go for a one night stand. He looked like someone who should audition for a teenage feel-good movie. He did not belong in his bed. 

“It’s fine.”

“No, really, stay here. I will be right back.” 

And just like that, the guy was gone. He barely even registered him stepping out of bed. It was one of those things he loved but also at the same time hated. It was a reminder that this is all that he was, this is all that it meant. Just a quick one-go to clear up your mind or get a rush. Sometimes he didn’t mind it, but once he was alone with his thoughts he hated it. He hated the whole thing. 

The blond stranger on the other hand, seemed to be a bit more caring. No one had ever offered to go get him more water or help with anything. They just did their part and then left. He was not even a part of their thoughts in the mornings. No strings, no attachment. Hit and 

run. Run. 

Before he had time to think more about it, the guy was back with a glass of water, (How had he even found the glass? Had he been looking?) and then handed it over carefully. George accepted it hesitantly. Maybe the guy was trying to kill him, it would honestly sound perfect. Then this madness could all end, then he could just disappear and never have to give himself up like this ever again. 

The bed dipped beside him and he glanced over. The stranger was giving him a soft smile, although a worried one. It was almost like he mattered to this guy, as if he was more than just a meatbag. That was a giant red flag and anyone with a sense of mind would not have tasted the water, but he could not find it in him to care. And so he reached for his pills and took them with the water. 

“If you want to leave, the door is just down the hall. It shouldn’t be too hard to miss.” He was hugging the glass with his hands, turning his attention to the liquid in it. He didn’t want to hold eye contact, he didn’t want to look into those eyes who would turn around any second now. If he looked too much, he would remember him. That couldn't happen. 

“Oh uhm, I didn’t know you wanted me to leave.” The stranger seemed to struggle a little with getting his words out and George in return sent him a confused look. The man was sitting on his bed awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, a long plain shirt hanging over his body. It was quite beautiful on him. It was so simple but also quite nice. It looked like the material was very thin and smooth which was maybe not the best to roll with in the UK but whatever. 

“I thought you wanted to leave?” It came out more passive aggressive than he intended it to be, and for just a split second the man by his side seemed to lose the joy in his eyes. Almost like a candle the whole thing disappeared- but just as quickly was lightened once more. It was a strange thing to see and George felt confused about the whole ordeal. 

The man gently shook his head and let out a chuckle, glancing around the room to take in the decor and the looks of the room. It was very simple, he was not a rich guy really, but he wasn’t poor either. He just felt like there were other things to spend his money on besides dull furniture or weird shit normal people put in their houses these days. The man did not seem to mind, however. 

“I can leave if you want to. I just thought you seemed like a nice person. Even if you were quite drunk last night.” George blushed in embarrassment. Sure, he might have gotten a bit too much yesterday but it’s not like he does strange stuff that other people do when they’re drunk. 

Most people tend to get very touchy or emotional, George just got more bold and more open, maybe a bit confused and dizzy but not more than that. He would not be afraid, he could walk on the edge of a skyscraper without a care in the world if he was really out of it. Usually there were no skyscrapers involved when he was drunk, though. Usually it was just bars and clubs, his couch and his cat. 

“Why would you even want to stay? That’s me drunk, that’s me when I barely even know my name. What makes you think that is me sober?” 

He wasn’t sure why his hands twitched when he spoke, but he almost spilled the water. That wouldn’t have been too fortunate, it would also have been highly embarrassing. Not that it mattered, this guy was just quite stubborn. He would probably leave soon. 

“Well, can I get to know the sober George?”   
  
“How do you even know my name?”   
  
“You told me..?” 

He had to stop himself from groaning. He really needed to learn to control himself and not spill all the information. It wouldn't be too good and he might end up spilling too much. They aren’t supposed to know anything. Not even his name. Age is fine so nothing weird happens, but names? Names are personal. Names are reasons to get attached. Attachment couldn’t happen. 

The stranger changed his position on the bed and it let out small creaks in complaint. He should really try to fix that, maybe even get a new bed soon. This one was getting quite old and he did not really like the vibe of it all anymore. He could get a dark grey one, maybe one of those who have a little wave hanging down from the side of it. It would have been a cute one. 

“Look, this means nothing. Just, go home. Please.” George placed down the glass of water, hugging his knees to his chest and turned to look at the man once more. 

His heart was beating and his head was hurting. His whole body felt confused and it was all hurting. It was almost like every nerve was burning at the thought of someone actually finding him interesting. There was a hope- but hope is a dangerous thing. It can trap you and eat you alive as you cling onto it for any hope of there being light. It was better to ignore it- it saved you the pain. 

It was so much easier to go numb, it was so much easier to just ignore it all and go silent. Almost like he had been living for a while now. He stopped caring three years ago. Had it worked? In some ways, yes. He did not get his heart broken, because you can’t break something that doesn’t exist. 

“What if it meant something to me?” The words were quiet but he definitely heard them, he heard those soft spoken words and he heard the meaning behind them. He heard the invitation. 

And he was terrified. 

“What?” 

There was blood pumping in ears, rushing to quickly make its way back to his heart. What was going on? 

“Can I at least have your number?”

George swallowed before nodding. The stranger handed over his phone and with shaky fingers he typed his number in. This was dangerous and bad, but maybe they wouldn’t even call. Maybe this was just for fun. It didn’t have to mean something. People gave him their number all the time and he never called them. He had given his out sometimes too but never gotten a call. It was simple. 

“You can type me in as Dream.” He rolled his eyes. He was that kind of guy, alright. 

He stood up from the bed and grabbed the rest of his clothes and put them on quickly. He also tried to fix his hair but it almost just got messier the more he tried. In a way, it was funny to watch. 

“Take care of yourself, alright?” Dream said and gave a genuine smile. It was a strange thing to see. Most of the time they didn’t even look at him, no way in hell they would shoot him a smile. Especially not a smile like that either. 

“You too…” He walked to the bedroom door, taking one last look back at George who was still hugging his knees close to his chest. 

“Goodbye, George.”   
  
“Goodbye, idiot.” 

He scoffed before turning his back and closing the door behind him. 

**Author's Note:**

> Take care of yourself out there, and if you have the time, feel free to leave a comment! I love reading them and hearing your thoughts, especially on a fic like this where I'm pouring everything out. 
> 
> I love you all <3


End file.
